


On the Other Foot

by misura



Category: Superman Returns (2006)
Genre: Community: smallfandomfest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-06 23:24:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3152171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The annual Daily Planet New Year's costume party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Other Foot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iamaslashaddict](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamaslashaddict/gifts).



> prompt: _Clark/Richard, when did lycra become an instant turn on?_

The annual Daily Planet New Year's costume party in one word, as descibed by one Jimmy Olsen, intrepid photographer, who has recently converted to the religious carrying of a cellphone:

awesome.

 

"I feel like he's trying to tell me something," Lois says. She hasn't smoked a cigarette for three weeks, one day and six hours now, which means she's actively looking for someone, anyone to tear into.

Preferably in the form of a scathing article about corruption and the misappropriation of funds by a certain member of the city council whom Clark would probably feel sorry for if the guy wasn't also, well, a crook.

(She's written an award-winning article about why the world doesn't need him; it's given him a possibly slightly jaded look on people having their feelings hurt by something possibly vaguely offensive someone wrote about them in the newspaper.)

"Maybe he is." Clark is not, in fact, at all sure who they're talking about at present. A guy, apparently.

Lois's instincts about guys are usually pretty good, so he figures it's safe enough to agree. It's not as if she expects any sparkling conversation from him - he's not actually sure why she's talking to him at all.

To people like Lois, parties aren't places to just relax and hang out with some friends while sampling this year's party snacks and pretending they actually know enough about wine to judge whether or not the stuff that's being served is any good (the general consensus is that it's an okay year).

"You really think so?" Lois asks.

Clark drags his attention away from the tasty cheese snacks that are half a room away (he could smell them if he wanted to, but he doesn't) and says, "Sure."

When in doubt: agree. It's the key to his cordial working relationship with Lois.

It doesn't really work with other people, but then other people aren't Lois. They don't put in Lois's hours of research and hard work, and, fine, they're also not the woman Clark's alter ego is still in love with.

"Why? I mean," Lois says, "I know why _I_ think he is, but what's your excuse?"

Clark wonders why he lets things like this happen to him. What he says is, "Hey, they're serving some more of those warm cheese snacks you liked. I'm going to go over there to try and get some."

(The second key to his cordial working relationship with Lois: know when to dodge.)

 

The annual Daily Planet New Year's costume party in one word, as described by one Clark Kent who has recently saved the world wearing a form-fitting costume, a cape and no glasses:

... well, the cheese snacks are new. And tasty.

 

"That's not one word, Clark," Jimmy tells him. His most recent ambition is to win a World Press Photo award for a picture taken with a cellphone. ( _His_ cellphone, by preference, but Jimmy's not by nature a competitive sort of guy. Clark likes that about him.)

Somehow, Clark doesn't think interviewing random passers-by during a costume party is going to bring Jimmy any closer to his goal, but then he's Clark Kent, secretly Superman, bachelor.

When it comes to achieving personal goals, Clark doesn't really feel he's in any position to throw stones, especially not now that Lois has gone back to being a single mom with no stated intentions of ever getting married.

"Fun, then," he says. "It's a fun party. Are you dressed like a robot?"

"Not just any old robot." Jimmy beams at him. Jimmy is ridiculously easily pleased. "I'm - well, never mind. You're looking pretty snazzy yourself there, Clark."

"Thank you," Clark says. Truth be told, the 'costume' part of the party kind of slipped his mind, in between a drought in Guatemala and a narrowly averted civil war in Iceland (of all places).

"So." Jimmy eyes him speculatively. "The hot cheese snacks? Really?"

"Absolutely," Clark says. His taste buds are practically human, as far as he can tell. That doesn't mean that Jimmy will enjoy the cheese snacks simply because Clark did, but the odds aren't terrible, either.

 

The annual Daily Planet New Year's costume party in one word, as described by one Richard White, award-winning journalist behind the article _The War on Peace: What Your Government Won't Tell You About Our Overseas Weapons Sales_ :

super.

 

It's not true that Clark's been going out of his way to avoid Richard. They just don't really move in the same spheres; Lois tied them together, for a while, but then she broke the engagement (or Richard did) and now here they are.

There's a betting pool going on how long it will take Lois to crack and light another cigarette. Clark's put down five dollars on eight months, because he was cornered by Jimmy and had to put it down on _something_.

Richard's good-naturedly put down ten dollars on one month longer than that.

"Let me guess: you're a reporter."

Clark turns, his polite but slightly vague smile already in place. "Isn't everyone here?"

Richard is wearing - well. Good thing Clark put that smile on, probably; maintaining it is a lot easier than summoning it now would have been. "Actually, no," Richard says.

It's a very good copy, Clark thinks. Very close to the original. The material offers little in the way of protection against cold (or heat or bullets, for that matter) but then, that's not what the suit's ever been about, anyway.

"You're Superman." Clark casts about for something more to say. He doesn't really want to talk about Superman. Exceptions notwithstanding, a lot of the people in this room have got some fairly impressive investigative skills, and Clark has always preferred to lie by omission, in no small part because that's about the only way in which he's actually _able_ to lie. "I thought you were going to be a psychotic axe murderer or something. Because you like horror movies," he adds quickly, "not because you even remotely resemble a psychotic axe murderer."

"Did that last year." Richard grins. "I almost got arrested on my way home."

"Whoa." Clark has never been arrested in his life. Lois claims it means he's dull, that he should have at least gotten himself dragged out of someone's office building for refusing to take 'no comment' for an answer to a highly relevant question. "So, playing it safe this year, I guess."

Richard looks amused. "I hadn't thought of that, actually."

"The costume's really very ... " Clark considers. He's a journalist; he knows how to use language. Unfortunately, none of the adjectives that come to mind are ones he feels it would be appropriate to say out loud. "Tight?"

Clark wears the costume all the time when he's Superman. It doesn't really make sense that he'd look at it a whole lot differently when it's on someone else, and yet, somehow, it does.

"Hey - you can be honest." Richard gestures expansively. "It's a party, Clark."

"It looks good," Clark says. Lois tells him he's warm, as Superman. That's not the suit, either, but it does help, in the sense that what she feels is his normal body temperature through the suit.

Clark could probably feel Richard's just as easily. He imagines reaching out and touching Richard's arm.

"Just good? I was hoping for something a little bit more than 'good'."

Clark imagines pulling Richard a bit closer, once his hand is on Richard's arm. He imagines Richard stepping forwards, smiling, a little bit cocky. Richard would want to be in control, or at least not feel like he's being pulled or pushed, Clark thinks.

Richard doesn't want a relationship with someone who smiles vaguely and avoids tricky questions or unpleasant situations by making a beeline for a tray with snacks.

Except that maybe he sort of does.

"Sexy?" Clark tries. In at least one way, it's a perfectly safe thing to say. He doesn't think Superman's ever used that word to describe anything or anyone.

"Better," Richard says. "Personal opinion, or general one?"

Clark balls his right hand into a fist to stop it from reaching up and adjusting his glasses, from touching them simply to make sure they're still there, that his disguise is still in place.

"Personal," he says. "Well, general, too, but mostly that was my personal opinion."

"We should do lunch some time." It's not the most romantic proposal Clark has ever had. People get weird around Superman every now and then, and he believes that some of them genuinely believe they feel something for him.

"You planned on showing up dressed like that?"

Richard chuckles. "Probably not."

"Then, it's a date," Clark says. He wonders how many times he'll have to cancel at the last minute because he needs to fly off somewhere in a hurry.


End file.
